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Aloysius Scrimshaw - Ssvn Lyrics

.EXE Alphanumeric, Too esoteric
I hate your fucking music you all sound generic
A cleric and a neuromancer
Hold me closer tiny dancer
Never question, Scrimshaw is the answer
Most of you will die of heart disease or cancer

Make up a DOS boot disk
After the manual install
It’s a bulkhead, not a wall
Give me back my alcohol
Mr Dahlberg of the dale variety, thrice
I could certainly use your advice
Should I stay or should I go
Oh, worlds did weep and kingdoms died
As pure as the arctic snow

C colon backslash run
Two score for the seventh son
Three dummies and the blue up thumb
He blew up son, when they left on the argon
We gotta get out while we're young
And sing what’s left to be sung
Pull guard ,one slip of the tongue
Black coat, no shoes, black gun, black lung